Daughters
by Meredith01
Summary: M/S. A look back at Samantha's childhood and how it affects her present relationships. AU post Season 3.


Title:- Daughters

Spoilers: AU post Season 3.

Synopsis: M/S (I don't write anything else!) Looking back at Samantha's childhood and her Father's continued absence from her life.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not a thing. The song is 'Daughters' by John Mayer and I don't own that either.

* * *

**'I know a girl  
She puts the color inside of my world  
but she's just like a maze  
Where all of the walls are continually changed**.'

It had arrived in the mail that morning. Just a plain, hand written envelope, delivered to her door hidden amongst a mass of bills and junk mail. The handwriting had seemed strangely familiar, yet Samantha couldn't quite remember where it was that she had seen that hastily scrawled, erratically formed cursive before.

Now, a few hours later,she found herself sitting numbly at her desk, staring in a mixture of shock and disbelief at the letter she held in her hands.

The background noise of the FBI offices merely mingled with her thoughts and her co-workers were unacknowledged as they orbited around her desk going about their business.

All except Martin, who had been standing watching her closely for the last few minutes. He knew the expression on her face all too well, it was one he had seen far too many times before and one he had hoped not to see again.

"Hey, what's with Sam?" Danny wandered over toward his friend and placed his hand pointedly on his shoulder as they stood side by side and watched her pour over the paper in her hands once again.

"Nothing," Martin shook his head and smiled tightly, folding his arms across his chest and trying to look as uninformed as his colleague.

Danny arched an eyebrow and gestured over toward the distracted blonde, "If you say so. But it sure looks like something to me."

Martin sighed and waited for Danny to take a seat back at his desk before he walked cautiously over toward Sam and sat down opposite her, clearing his throat quietly to try and catch her attention.

When Samantha didn't look up to acknowledge him and still appeared lost in thought he placed his hand lightly over hers and smiled as she looked up sharply at his sudden touch.

"Hey," he said softly, returning the brief, half-hearted smile he received from her.

"Hey," she breathed, quickly returning her eyes to the letter she held in slightly trembling hands.

"You made a decision yet?" he asked uncertainly, hearing a rush of air leave her body in a deep sigh.

"Not yet," she shook her head and finally tore her gaze away from the paper to look directly in his eyes, "If I call him...what then? What do I say to him? Almost thirty years and he suddenly decides he wants to see me?"

Martin merely shook his head at her torrent of questions and glanced down at the letter, "I don't know Sam."

"How did he even know where I am?" she frowned in confusion and held her hands aloft, "because you know _I_ have no idea where he is."

"Maybe your Mom?" he suggested Patricia as a likely source of information, "why don't you call and ask her?"

Sam shook her head and leant back in her chair with an irritated smile, "No, because then I'd have to come up with _another _hundred and one excuses why I don't want her to take care of the baby. As if I'd want to leave my child with her," she fumed, still in evident disbelief that her mother thought Samantha would entrust her child to her after the experiences of her childhood.

Martin nodded and merely let her continue on the tangent he felt was possibly approaching.

"I don't need this Martin, my life is complicated enough as it is," she shook her head irritably and crumpled the paper in her hand before depositing it decisively into her desk drawer, "I can't do this right now, I just can't."

"It's your decision Sam," he nodded, glancing around the office to look out for any eavesdroppers or voyeurs as he let his fingers weave through hers and he tried his best to muster a reassuring smile, "whatever you decide to do, you know I'll support you."

"Can we talk about this later?" she widened her eyes pleadingly, desperately hoping to avoid the imminent conversation she had no desire to conduct in the office.

"Sure," he smiled good naturedly and gave her hand a final squeeze before he stood up from his seat and walked back over to his desk, leaving her peering distractedly out of the window across the vast skyline.

**'And I've done all I can  
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hand  
Now I'm starting to see  
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me.'  
**

Leaning back in his desk chair he continued to stare across at her, amazed at how little he really knew about the woman he woke up beside each morning. Although the events of recent months had made Samantha a little more open and expressive in relation to her feelings, the subject of her Father was still one that appeared to be strictly off limits to anybody, even the father of her child.

Martin found his gaze suddenly captured by the photograph on his desk; a blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl smiled buoyantly back at him from beneath the glass and he felt his chest flutter wildly as he thought about the little girl who had made a very unexpected appearance in their world.

With all of their past relationship issues, he had immediately assumed that an unplanned pregnancy would be the final nail in the coffin, yet despite her initial shock and trepidation, Samantha had surprised everyone around her with the enthusiasm and apparent joy with which she had embraced motherhood.

And nothing had made him happier than holding their daughter for the first time and the very second her miniature fingers had curled around his own he had fallen completely in love with the blue eyed infant in his arms.

As he sat there thinking about his own child, his thoughts wandered involuntarily toward a man he had never met, but who he found himself irrationally hating. He wondered what kind of man would choose to leave his children, cutting all ties with them for the remainder of their childhood, missing every milestone and accomplishment. He felt an indescribable anger in the pit of his stomach, hating this faceless man for the pain he now saw reflected so evidently in Samantha's eyes.

He was the reason for her insecurities and fears, for the distrust with which she had treated every man in her life and sought comfort in the arms of those undeserving of her. He was the reason she had spent sleepless nights doubting her worth as a parent, terrified of repeating her parents mistakes once her own child was born. He was the reason Samantha was so afraid to love or be loved, the reason she was still reluctant to marry the man she had now built a life with.

**'Fathers, be good to your daughters  
Daughters will love like you do  
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers  
So mothers, be good to your daughters too.'**

All in all, Sam owed nothing but her tears and inherent insecurities to Joseph Spade. His only contribution to her childhood had been the fears and doubts that she had carried with her into adult life and Martin knew that the uncertain, cynical person Samantha had then become had been predetermined when she was just a little girl.

'**Oh, you see that skin?  
It's the same she's been standing in  
Since the day she saw him walking away  
Now she's left  
cleaning up the mess he made .'**

_From their makeshift shelter underneath the kitchen table, the two little sisters clung to each other tightly, their childish whimpers and quiet sobs drowned out by the sound of their mother's fearful yelps and their father's enraged yells._

_The clattering of furniture and sound of glass smashing forced the siblings closer together, their bodies shaking with each crash or bang that came from their parent's room._

_Emily Spade rocked her younger sister soothingly in her arms, her own heart pounding furiously in her chest as the sound of her father's heavy footfalls and the resulting noise of skin striking skin sent a wave of nausea rising up from her stomach as her mother pleaded hysterically in the next room. But being 5 years her sister's senior, it was her job to be the protector and she held her baby sister in a vice like grip, determined to keep her beside her under the relative safety of the table._

_Samantha looked up at her older sister with wide eyes, her cheeks stained with tears and lips paled in fear._

"_It's ok, it's ok," Emily repeated softly, stroking the child's blonde curls with a shaking hand and trying not to let her own fear exacerbate her sister's obvious terror._

"_I warned you," Joe Spade strode hurriedly after his wife who rushed down the hallway of the trailer and stepped back uncertainly against the kitchen counter, "I told you to stay the hell out of my business didn't I?!"_

_Patricia's eyes blazed furiously despite her fear and her bloodied lips curled into a mocking smile as she regarded her husband, "Your business? Your business?," she repeated, picking up a half filled glass tumbler and hurling it suddenly across the room ,skimming his head by only inches._

_Joe advanced furiously in her direction, his hand raised to strike her as she glared up defiantly at him._

_Samantha screwed her eyes closed hurriedly and hid her face in Emily's shoulder, waiting for the sound of the resulting blow or her mother's cry of pain. Neither came, and she hesitantly opened her eyes to find her parents staring at each other in unadulterated hatred. _

"_You thought I wouldn't find out?" Patricia challenged, laughing through her tears as she shook her head in amused disbelief, "the whole town knows Joe and you thought I wouldn't find out?" she slurred, her jaw clenching in anger as she thought about her husband's most recent adulterous affair._

_Sam watched her father shake his head and arch an eyebrow in defiance, "Fuck the town," he shrugged and smiled, picking up his jacket and looking Patricia up and down derisively as she flinched at his sudden movement._

"_You're not even worth it," he mocked, looking at the pathetic creature before him with disregard. The sound of quiet sniffling caught his attention and he stared for a brief moment at his two daughters who sat huddled in the corner, tears streaming down both their faces._

_Samantha held his gaze for a mere second, her brown eyes holding his practically identical eyes in a pleading stare. _

"_Be good for your mother," he warned, putting on his jacket and quickly looking away from his frightened and confused children as they realised his intent was to leave._

"_I'm out of here," he snarled, glaring icily at Patricia who was taking a large gulp of amber colored liquid from a plastic children's tumbler. She looked up sharply and hurriedly placed the beaker down onto the counter behind her as she ran after him toward the door_

"_Joe...no, wait! Don't do this Joe, don't do this to me!" she yelled, her frantic screams muffled by the sobs that racked her thin body, "Joe!" she sank down onto the step of the trailer and wrapped her arms around herself, too immersed in her own sorrow to notice her daughters._

_Samantha's eyes widened and she frantically wriggled free of her sister's restrictive embrace and crawled out from under the table, running out after her Father who was walking purposefully toward his truck._

"_Samantha!" Emily reached out to stop her but was too slow to catch her as the child scrambled to follow their father._

"_Daddy!" she shouted, waving to get his attention and repeating her call to him as she ran on shaking legs across the uneven gravel, "Daddy, wait!"_

_Joe didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge her and simply clambered into the dirty red pick-up truck and slammed the door with a resounding bang._

_The little girl's face crumpled into tears as the sound of the engine punctuated the silence of the summer evening. With a decisive roar of the engine, the truck headed out toward the trailer park gates, several residents all pausing to watch the sad figure of the little blonde haired girl who ran after frantically._

_Samantha panted breathlessly and felt her legs growing sore and heavy with the effort of her race. She watched the truck speed off down the dirt road and held her hand up to shelter her eyes from the particles of dust that momentarily filled the air._

_Her chest heaving with sobs she watched in defeat as the truck disappeared over the horizon and the air fell still and quiet around her once again._

_Swallowing hard against the burning tears at the back of her throat, Samantha turned back slowly to look at the trailer steps where her mother now stood, a drink as always, firmly in hand. Her head full of blonde curls bobbed gently down her back as she turned her head sharply to stare at the horizon out before her and a strange, crushing despair overcame her tiny body. _

_It was a feeling Samantha would become accustomed to over the next few years, a feeling the grown-up Samantha Spade would instantly be able to recognise as heartbreak._

**_'_So fathers, be good to your daughters  
Daughters will love like you do  
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers  
So mothers, be good to your daughters too.'**

**  
**

Samantha leant her head back against the soft, plush cushion of the large rocking chair and continued her slow, gentle movements back and forth with the tiny bundle in her arms. A reoccurring smile of wonderment graced her lips as she stared down at her daughter who held her mother in a similarly unwavering gaze, blue eyes affixed intently on brown.

"Hey there peanut," Sam smiled, tracing her fingertip lightly across the infant's chubby cheek and then slowly down the bridge of her tiny nose. The baby smiled in response and chuckled out loud once she saw her mother grinning down at her, all too evidently entranced by her daughter.

Grace Fitzgerald emitted a weary yawn and allowed her eyelids to flutter closed, long lashes fanning out across her cheeks as her little rosebud lips emitted a tiny sigh and she settled into her mother's arms. Warm, safe and wrapped in a soft pink blanket, with a belly full of formula and the reassuring sound of her mother's voice, the child was happy to great a gentle slumber.

"Not going to stay awake to see Daddy, huh?" Sam said softly, still amazed by the incredible feelings of love she felt overcome her each time she held her child.

The sound of the key in the lock brought a gentle smile to her face and she arched an eyebrow pointedly, "Speak of the devil."

Sam looked up expectantly toward the nursery door and listened for the progress of footfalls through the apartment.

Martin stepped through the door cautiously and tugged his tie hurriedly away from his neck as he flashed his girlfriend a weary smile.

"We were just talking about you," Sam grinned, craning her neck as he walked over beside the rocking chair and bent to press a tender kiss to her lips."

"Only good things I hope," he laughed, reclaiming her lips in a second kiss and chuckling breathlessly as she instantly claimed a third.

"How are my girls?" he asked, smiling in a reflex action as he peered down at Grace and reached out to stroke her downy blonde hair.

"Sleepy," Sam replied, stifling a yawn and watching his awe struck expression with a thoughtful smile.

"I'm sorry I missed bedtime," he said regretfully, having been recruited once again by Jack for overtime hours. He often wondered if this was a purposeful ploy to keep him from his family, but broaching the subject would be pointless and would only serve to stir up old resentments and issues. For the first time in their relationship, the ghost of Samantha's affair with Jack had finally been put to rest and there seemed no point in resurrecting their old problems, especially not given their now essentially stable and happy home life.

"Go to bed, I'll put her down," Martin ordered, watching a succession of tired yawns overcome her before he gently took the stirring infant from her arms and deposited a kiss on Sam's temple as Grace wriggled and swatted at the air irritably.

"Looks like someone's wide awake," he stated with an amused smile, knowing their daughter's inherited predisposition to late nights would mean he would probably be spending the next hour or so trying to lull the lively infant to sleep.

"Well, she wanted to see her Daddy," Sam shrugged, standing up and gently ushering Martin to take her seat in the rocking chair and deftly reaching up to grab a small storybook he had been reading to the baby each night after her bath, "and she's kind of anxious to see how that 'too hot, too cold' porridge thing worked out."

Martin laughed and dutifully took the storybook, gently moving the sides of the blanket back from the infant's face as she tried to suck on the plush fabric and peered up at her parents with wide eyes.

"Goodnight sweetie," Sam said softly, bending to kiss Grace's head and briefly stroke the back of her tiny hand.

She stood and let her hand rest on Martin's shoulder and leant down to kiss his cheek, "Don't stay up too long," she whispered, closing her eyes as he turned and kissed her affectionately in response.

Samantha walked out of the nursery and wrapped her arms tightly around her body, listening as the soft sounds of Martin's voice drifted along beside her down the hallway and then disappeared into her own thoughts and recollections.

**'Boys, you can break  
You find out how much they can take  
Boys will be strong  
And boys soldier on  
But boys would be gone without warmth from  
A woman's good, good heart.'**

**  
**

_Hugging her sweater tighter around her body, Samantha huddled against the brisk autumn breeze and withdrew her cold hands up through the sleeves of the far too large, 'hand me down' blue sweater._

_School had let out over an hour ago and the street was now eerily silent, the sound of a dog barking somewhere in the distance was the only audible sound. Samantha hated school with a passion and although as a general rule the bell at the end of the day sent her all but sprinting for the exit, today she found herself loitering uncertainly on the steps of the large, imposing school building._

_Out of the blue, she and Emily had received a letter from their Father. He was coming back to town and wanted to see them and upon his instructions, she had made up an excuse about attending an after school club and was now waiting patiently on the steps out front to see the man who had walked out some seven years before. Emily had grown world weary and subdued in the last few years, the strain of taking care of her mother and younger sister weighed heavily on her and the very idea of seeing the man who had caused so much of her family's current strife was not well received._

_So with the small, remaining reserves of hope she had left, 13 year old Samantha Spade found herself waiting alone, to see the father she only barely remembered._

_The sound of carefree laughter caught her attention and she diverted her gaze from the road ahead to the three young girls now walking idly across the grass toward the pavement, all dressed in the same matching cheer leading uniforms. _

_It was a brief glimpse into a world Samantha usually found herself excluded from and it had been made all too clear to her on numerous occasions that living in a trailer park with your near alcoholic mother, wearing your older sister's cast offs did not make you a candidate for entry to the popular crowds. In fact, school was a friendless, stressful place for Samantha and many times she found herself staring blankly out of the windows wishing herself as far away from Kenosha and her mother as possible._

"_Hot date?"_

_Samantha's eyes drifted up from the impossibly white sneakers in front of her up to the equally impossibly tanned, freckled face of Lisa Whitman whose mocking smile was increasing with every second of silence._

_Sam blanched as the three girls all laughed in unison and stared down at her shoes, hoping her father would choose that very second to appear and rescue her._

"_You gonna take him back to your trailer to meet Mommy?" the second girl arched an eyebrow and collapsed into a fit of self amused giggles, quickly echoed by her counterparts._

"_Yeah, if Mommy's not passed out in Nelson's again," the third chimed in, having been privy to a conversation of her mother's where town gossip had been readily exchanged._

"_I'm waiting for my Dad," Samantha said defiantly, keeping a watchful eye on the desolate street._

_The three girls laughed and cast Samantha a dismissive glare of superiority and tossed their glossy ponytails over their shoulders._

"_Right," the second girl rolled her eyes in disbelief and folded her tanned arms across her chest as they strolled slowly away._

"_Whatever, loser," Lisa spat in parting, narrowing her eyes and smirking satisfactorily at the flicker of pain she saw in her victim's eyes._

_Samantha turned her gaze away from them and stared down at the ground, watching the progression of an ant as it scurried across the concrete and then disappeared into the forest of freshly mowed grass._

_With a defeated sigh she glanced up at the clock inside the hallway behind her and then looked back out at the street. The sun was setting rapidly and it would soon be dark and despite her mother's exasperation, the dark was still something Samantha feared. Clambering dejectedly to her feet, she picked up her school bag and padded toward the side walk as she began the slow walk home alone._

"Sleeping like a baby," Martin declared somewhat victoriously, smiling apologetically at Samantha who visibly started at his sudden appearance.

She nodded wearily and leant her head back against the pillows, a deep, troubled sigh leaving her body as she stared up at the ceiling and tapped her fingertips thoughtfully against her abdomen.

Still in her clothes, she lay on the top of the large bed and barely registered the dip in the mattress as Martin sat beside her and lay back tiredly next to her.

Samantha remained silent but skirted closer toward him, reaching out blindly and taking his hand which he clasped firmly in his own and raised to his lips in an affectionate kiss.

"I think..." she spoke in little more than a whisper, her lips reluctant to voice the words she needed to say, "I think I want to see him."

"Ok," he replied simply He turned to look at her and watched her hand instantly flutter to her eyes, trying desperately to disguise the tears that had started to fall rapidly down her cheeks.

"Oh, Sam," he pressed a soothing kiss to her cheek and waited for her to find her own way into his arms. He hated to see her so upset, yet he knew there was nothing he could do to help her and no way for him to stem her tears.

So he did all he could do for her and simply held her as she cried.

**~  
**

Shuddering against the cold, fall breeze, Samantha adjusted the plush crimson scarf that hung around her neck and dug her hands furtively into the pockets of her coat.

From her position on the park bench she could see the gaggle of shrieking and yelling children hurtling around the small playground area, their carefree laughter and endless chatter serving to brighten up an otherwise dull and grey November afternoon. A small gathering of parents stood off to the side of the playground, all keeping a watchful eye on their offspring, something Samantha herself was only now too keenly aware of since she had become a parent herself. She supposed her slightly overprotective streak was a direct consequence of her job in Missing Persons. She knew first hand the terrible realities that befell families every day and as a result, Grace was either fortunate or unfortunate enough to have two very attentive and overtly cautious parents.

The sky had begun to cloud over, the heavy, looming clouds now ominously threatened an imminent downpour and she felt her toes begin to tingle unpleasantly from the cold.

Her gaze settled on a tall, dark haired man directly in her eye line. He held up the small, snugly cosseted infant in his arms and waved the child's tiny arm in Samantha's direction. She smiled instantly and held up her hand somewhat stiffly in response, rolling her eyes as he hoisted the baby carefully up and down in his arms and extracted a fit of giggles from the little girl.

Finally tearing her gaze away from Martin and Grace, she glanced pensively at her watch and peered searchingly around the park for any sign of even a remotely familiar face.

It suddenly struck her that the man she was waiting to meet was in fact a perfect stranger to her. She had no idea what he would now look like and assumed he too would be able to walk past her in the street and never know she was his daughter. She knew nothing about his life, about his likes or dislikes, even the state he lived in.

She had been reluctant to ask Martin to go with her to this awkward meeting and had been secretly relieved when he had decided to accompany her, insisting that she wouldn't even know he was there and that it was just to give Grace 'some fresh air'. But she knew it had been for her benefit and yet again proved just how well this man now knew her, despite her initial reluctance to let him anywhere near her heart.

Whenever Martin had attempted to broach the subject of marriage she found herself instantly recoiling and dismissing the idea before they had a chance to even discuss it. She had hurriedly compiled a list of reasons why it was a bad idea – of why she couldn't and shouldn't make that final commitment.

Yet sitting there in that moment, watching him with their daughter, she found herself unable to remember a single one. They loved each other and that should be enough.

'**On behalf of every man  
looking out for every girl  
You are the god and the weight of her world.'**

As the minutes passed, Samantha found herself considering all the times she had spent and wasted waiting for this man. She had spent the first few years after he left convinced that he would return, gazing out at the road with a childish hope that one day he would remember her and come back. Her troubled teenage years erased any final traces of her once hopeful nature and eventually the hope became acceptance and the pain she felt as a little girl became resentment and self loathing.

Holidays, birthdays, school recitals and graduations...all spent in the futile hope that one day the absent seat would be filled or a card would land on the mat. She had wanted love and acceptance, reassurance that his leaving had not been because she was not good enough, smart enough or pretty enough.

**'So fathers, be good to your daughters  
Daughters will love like you do.'**

Running her hand absently through to the ends of her hair, Samantha stared contemplatively at the families gathered around her and came to a final resolution. She had spent enough of her live waiting for Joseph Spade, enough time thinking about her own inadequacies and failures. As a child there had been so much she wanted and needed from this man, yet now as an adult, Samantha realised that there was nothing she wanted or needed from him anymore. His existence would always be in the back of her mind, she would probably always think about him fleetingly each Father's Day and dreaded the day Grace was old enough to ask questions about her family, but in all other respects, it was simply too late.

She had a man she loved who loved her equally in return, a beautiful little daughter and good friends she knew she could trust and rely on and there was nothing else in the world she needed.

'**'Girls become lovers who turn into mothers  
So mothers be good to your daughters, too.'**

Samantha exhaled deeply and smiled, shaking her head as she berated herself for even remotely believing her Father would show up.

Martin caught her gaze and began to slowly walk up the small, winding path toward her, his expression conveying his sadness and regret at her consistent disappointments.

Sam stood up and rubbed her cold hands together, finally giving up her vigil and resolving herself to the fact that a relationship with her Father was maybe just not meant to be.

Martin came to stand at her side and reached out to rub her back soothingly, "I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's ok," she shrugged resolutely and smiled up at him in reassurance, "I don't know why I even thought he'd show."

He watched her shake her head ruefully and reach out to take Grace from him as she strained to reach her mother, "We can wait a little longer if you want? I'll take Gracie to see the ducks..." he offered, suddenly pausing as her hand fluttered up to land on his cheek.

"I'm ok Marty, _really_," she smiled and leant up to press a soft kiss to his lips, "and you know what? I'm done waiting for the guy."

"You sure?" he arched an eyebrow and pulled her carefully closer, mindful of the sleepy baby in her arms.

"Yeah," she nodded, reaching down and firmly clasping his hand in hers as she cast a glance around the park one final time and then let her gaze settle back on his handsome face, "let's go home, Marty."

Samantha glanced up at the sky as rain drops began to fall and cuddled her infant daughter closer to her chest. Martin held her firmly around the waist and she allowed her head to rest snugly on his shoulder as they strolled along.

'**'So mothers be good to your daughters, too.'**

All that was left to do now was to live for the future, the future she was sure would be happy and filled with love and contentment. Maybe she would never get the resolution or answers she sought and there would always be a part of her that wondered and continued to hope.

But somehow, none of that really mattered anymore.

It was finally time to let go.


End file.
